


A World All Yours

by Dragoneisha



Series: A World of Our Own [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angels, Blood and Gore, Demons, Earth C (Homestuck), F/F, F/M, Fictional Religion & Theology, Hive Mind, Human/Monster Romance, Immortality, Insanity, M/M, Memory Alteration, Monsters, Multi, Mystery, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Religion, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sea Monsters, Time Travel, or troll i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-10-29 09:29:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17805461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragoneisha/pseuds/Dragoneisha
Summary: After the discovery of monsters on Earth C, the winners of the Game are much more careful in watching each other's backs. The more they learn, the deeper this mystery goes - now that they know the demons are there, the question is why? And how?And most importantly, what are they?





	1. Next

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to AWAY, the second installment in the AWOO series (A World of Our Own). there will be three in total. again, this is my baby, and i love it so much. thank you so much for giving it a chance.
> 
> and if you havent read AWIM first, GET OUT OF HERE!!! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING!?!? THIS IS A SERIAL WORK! IT WON'T MAKE SENSE!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxy ogles. Dirk frets. Calliope answers a question.

She’s cute when she thinks.

Roxy sprawls out on the checkered blanket, her beslippered feet tapping together again and again. Her eyes linger on Kanaya, backlit as she is. She can still make out her features, as Kanaya is, herself, a light source, so all that does is make her look like some super hot angel or some shiznit. 

Kanaya is lost in thought, her gaze hazy, but somewhere near the top of the mountain. Roxy, honestly, can relate.

This place is their new Meeting Spot. They need one, after the clusterfuck that’s been the last few weeks. The mountain itself is called Twain Peak, and it’s close enough to the sea for Vriska to captain their ship in, it’s a pretty good midpoint between all the kingdoms, and most importantly, it’s not in the woods near Aradaxia. As much as she enjoyed the conversation between herself, Anna, and Black Beauty, she... figures she needs some time to digest what she’s figured out. Besides - they need to relax! (And not be hunted by cat-monsters! She glances to Jade, who is also lookin’ hella fine.)

It’s also within a few miles of Spanner Park, where Callie’s been writing her play. She’s gonna be an ofishoal playwright and everything! It’s super chill. She was hoping she could make it to this meeting, but she’s stuck talking to the mayor, and she’s not _quite_ mean enough to ditch the guy for their get-together.

They’re waiting for Jane, Dave, and Dirk now. Roxy is still… rattled, from the events of the day before. Fucking hell, none of that should have hapened. It wad because they fucked up, Roxy puts it at least partially on her - she had pieces of every seperate puzzle! She should have realized that they were the same.

But what’s done is done. Jake and John are still sheltering in a tree in their hellforest, too far away to get anywhere in time, so they’ll have to come to whenever the next meeting is, same as Callie. 

Roxy blows out a long breath, which gets Jade’s attention.

“What’s up?” she asks, sweet as anything. Bluh! Jade knows what’s up! And she can probably smell her peanut-butter breath, too.

“Just thinking.” Kanaya turns her head so her brow is against the moon. It’s very pretty. “Ogling Rosie’s wifey.”

“Ogle all you want, but I reserve to right to obliterate you if necessary,” says Rose, half-asleep against Kanaya’s back. Oh, Rosie-posie. Best mom ever. “She’s my wife, not yours.”

“Don’t be so selfish, we could share,” Roxy hums, eyeing Kanaya on purpose now. Kanaya blinks, twice, seeming to notice she’s being talked about. “She’s tall ‘nuff for both’a us.”

“My height and my patience are differing lengths,” Kanaya points out, scooping Rose into her lap. “One of you is quite enough.”

“Fine,” Roxy huffs, and rolls onto her back to ogle Jade instead. Fuck, Jade’s hot. Not Jane-hot, but no one is Jane-hot except Jane. BUT (hehe butt) she’s more visibly buff, and Roxy can appreciate that. Deffo. “I’ll just look at Jade’s butt.”

“No!” Jade shrieks, pulling the blanket up around her waist, and she does it just firmly enough to roll Roxy back onto her belly. Oof. “My butt is off-limits to jerks!!”

“Ohhhh em geeee,” Roxy groans, flopping her arm over her eyes. “You can’t still be mad about that.”

“Yes I can,” Jade sniffs. “You didn’t listen to me! I told you I smelled it!”

“Maybe you shoulda brought up the _footprints_ and I’d’ve listened more?”

“The smell should have been enough!” Jade’s voice almost cracks with how high it gets, stuffed with derision. Kinda hot.

“You two,” warns Kanaya, suddenly, and the wind is taken out of Roxy’s sails. _Oops._ Shouldn’t be like that when they’re supposed to be relaxing. But then, this whole relaxing thing is kind of a joke. No one can relax after what they’ve been through, especially when they don’t have the answers.

“She started it,” she and Jade say at the same time, but if Jade glares at her, Roxy can’t tell. She’s got her arm over her face. Checkmate, bitches.

“I don’t care who started it, I’m finishing it. Both of you _stop_.” Roxy grins a little, hidden by her kind of scrawny bicep. She should never let on that that voice gives her the hellingest chills. Kanaya is so great. Rose is so lucky. And so is Kanaya, for marrying Rose.

Man, if it weren’t for the whole monster thing, this would be great.

-

Dirk hasn’t let go of Jane’s hand for three hours.

He knows, logically, that it’s incredibly sweaty by now, and Jane can’t be comfortable. He’s not even comfortable, and it’s rather hard to make him _un_ comfortable, considering his natural inclination towards being touched. A man can admit his shortcomings, even if they’re touch-based. 

But he really doesn’t want to let go. He really, really does not want that, especially because the circle of dying greenery keeps popping up behind his eyelids. Fucking dumb.

It’s stupid. It’s more than stupid - it’s asinine, even. Ridiculous. One could even stretch towards ridonkulous, if they were so inclined (Dirk isn’t.) But Dirk doesn’t want to let go because Jane went away and then she died and he doesn’t want her to go away again.

…

No. You know what? That’s dumb.

Clearly it’s a logical, uh. A logical procession. It has to be, because otherwise it means Dirk is being stupid about a stupid dumb thing - oh he knows what it is. It’s that Dirk failed to keep Jane safe, an he doesn’t want to be a failure again. That’s more like it, yeah.

Jane kisses his hand, and he snaps out of his reverie, with a little “huh” that he didn’t mean to let escape.

“You’re strangling my fingers, mister,” Jane says, the wind stealing her voice, but it still manages to get to his ears. “Relax. It’s okay, we’re going to figure everything out.”

Of course she thinks that. That’s what the meeting is for, but Dirk knows something is going to fuck it up. Calliope already can’t come, and who knows what she knows that’ll be left out of the talks. Dirk doesn’t know. Dirk doesn’t know, and he doesn’t like that.

“Mmh,” says Dirk, wisely.

“Hush,” Jane whispers, and she pulls him in to kiss his cheek instead. Considering they’re in the air, this is easier than usual.

“I’m just gonna chill back here and pretend I don’t have two eyefuls of ass,” Dave comments from slightly behind. Ah, Dave. honest as ever. Dirk has trouble with that kind of honesty, he’d probably have made a joke instead of point out the ass. Maybe written a soliloquy. 

“We’re here already, stop whining,” Jane scolds, and Dirk feels his heart crawl up into his throat and die there. He’s going to have to face _Roxy_ and tell her that he let Jane die on their watch. Not to mention Jake when he finally gets out of whatever hellish forest he’s in. Jake is hard enough to talk to when he’s trying to justify himself for being a massive fuckwad during the game, now he’s going to have to explain that he got Jane killed too because he was too busy playing homemaker to get there in time.

He doesn't say anything as they land. Roxy’s shriek of relief communicates enough for both of them.

Dave sets down behind him, and as he finally lets go of Jane, he feels is slim, strong hand on his shoulder. Dirk closes his eyes.

“Chillax,” Dave urges, voice low. Dirk can tell he's watching them reunite. He doesn't have to open his eyes to know Roxy won't let go of Jane either. “She's okay. We can get to the bottom of this faster than Adam Sandler’s career.”

Dirk can’t help but snort. (He could have helped, but that would just have worried Dave more.)

Dave squeezes and breaks off as Dirk opens his eyes, and Jade comes sniffing up to shove him towards the checkered blanket. It's painfully cliche. 

No, that needs to be acknowledged. It's literally a red-and-white plaid blanket, like you'd see in a children's book. It's like someone purified a nice essence de lesbian and ironed it out into a flat, fruit-leather sheer. It's like someone poured nonexistent childhood nostalgia into a stroopwafel press. It's like he's staring at a fucking picnic like he used to dream about when he was a kid because he wanted to sit on land and feel the sun and eat _peanut butter_ with his boyfriend.

It's not real. Roxy definitely made it.

He has mixed feelings about the damn thing.

But Jade isn't waiting for him to make up his mind, and she pushes him again. He stumbles this time.

“Sit down,” she orders, and he does.

-

“Oh, yes! Just right there, thank you so much!”

Calliope grunts, braces her shoulder against the fallen statue, and gives it a last little shove. It sets back into place with the quietest little _thunk_ she’s ever heard.

The mayor, who isn’t the Mayor but is styled after him, sash and grey and all, claps his tiny little human hands. “Perfect! Now we have the centerpiece of Victory Park all set up again.” He sighs, wiping under one eye like he’s crying. Calliope flicks her tongue between her pointed teeth. Yes, she does taste crying, but the heremones indicate joy rather than sadness. Sweet! “Everything really is coming together,” he sighs.

“I’m glad I could help, Mayor Botki.” 

“Please, Doctor Botki to you,” he hums, and Calliope isn’t quite sure how that’s different.

Spanner Park is a town that was swamped by a truly unforeseen tidal wave. It has only just un-Atlantised itself, and everyone is doing their best to get right back to business, which Calliope finds foolhardy, but endearing.

Calliope has been writing a play based on these events for the past two weeks or so. Or, rather, she’s been _trying_ to do such a thing, but the problem with being an extremely competent, monstrous woman in the middle of a totally fucked-up town is that everyone really wants your help.

And she’s put up six different buildings.

“With all due respect, Doctor Botki, I did miss a rather important meeting to meet with you!” Calliope uncaptchalogues her notebook and taps a pen on its surface. It leaves two little dots. Drat, she’d meant to make sure it wasn’t writing yet, now there’s dots on her notes! She’ll just have to try to write over them to make it tidy. “I do actually want to hear about the leadup to the flood.”

“Tidal wave, dearie, it’s a tidal wave that did it,” Doctor Botki points out, bustling his way past Calliope and heading down the street. It’s still not finished - they got the water pumped out last week, but things are still drying out, and they need cobblestone to fill in the gaps in the road. The delivery’s been held up for a good three days now - Calliope is surprised it’s taken so long.

But on another level, she’s not surprised at all. Earth C is… showing some cracks in the infrastructure. 

The food shortage is one thing, but they don’t even seem to have available funds for a disaster. Calliope, being part of the government, isn’t a huge fan of this. They should have had the foresight! Or, hell, they should have stopped it.

Aren’t they gods?

“Tidal wave,” Calliope compromises, and makes sure to note that down. If he’s making such a big deal of it, it must be an important distinction. “So, I know this is a bit of a silly question, seeing as it’s a bit obvious! But - how has Spanner Park changed since then?”

The mayor looks back in idle curiosity.

Calliope flicks her pen in her talons, searching for the words to explain what she wants to know without being too… harsh. These people have been through a lot! She doesn’t want to push more on them. (Except she really, really does. She wants to get this done! She can’t just sit there and twiddle her thumbs for a super long time and not o anything! She’s already missing the big meeting for this, because it’s the only time she could get him alone, and Calliope is mad enough about that, darn it!!!)

“What was Spanner Park like before? Was it homey? Anxious? What was the air of it, before it was flooded?”

Doctor Botki furrows his brows, clearly taking some time to think on it. They keep walking as he does, Calliope helping him over some of the larger gaps in the stone. She steps over them rather easily, herself. Calliope has hit a bit of a growth spurt. Her last shed had her shooting up a full three inches, and she’s feeling the itch of another one at the back of her neck.

“... It wasn’t very nice,” Doctor Botki admits, and Calliope blinks in surprise, tasting the air. He doesn’t seem upset to admit it, either. He just comes out and says it.

For a mayor, he takes a lot more credit than she thought. She figured she was dealing with a typical bureaucrat (no offense, Jane) but she’s found him to be a regular homemaker. At least, so far. She’s willing to be wrong.

“Could you explain?” she asks, carefully, pen poised over the paper. “I won’t include anything too untoward, I promise.”

He shakes his head. “I’d rather you, honestly,” he tells her, stuffing his hands into the folds of his long grey coat, which wraps around him in complicated sworls. “I almost got many people killed, being mayor and not ordering so much as a warning siren. Not that we have sirens, it’d disrupt the growth vats.”

Spanner Park, Calliope remembers, is a small industrial town, which gave it its name. The town builds cars and scuttlebuggies, which look much different than what Calliope expected form her study of Earth, but - honestly aren’t that much different overall. Nothing like she’d have expected when she jumped forward so many years. 

“They’re fragile?” she asks, prodding gently.

“Oh, yes,” says Doctor Botki. “The larvae can be damaged by loud noise or other such disturbances. Not that it helped much - most of them were obliterated by the wave, and the ones that weren’t were flooded with saltwater. Poisoned the wells. We’ve had to pump it all out and replace the fluids, which is… costly, to say the least.”

“And you haven’t the funds for such things.”

“Absolutely not!” Calliope flicks her tongue, tastes the wry amusement on his tone as a kind of sadness on her tongue. Prolactin and adrenocorticotropic hormone. “We haven’t even fixed this dratted road! It’s luck and volunteering alone that we’ve gotten so much done.”

Calliope nods, slowly. 

“I hate to be rude,” she points out, “but you still haven’t quite answered.”

Doctor Botki looks at her.

“It was terrible,” he says, flatly. “The few here that cared about their fellow man were more than willing to offer them to the Smiling God when the waters got turbulent. The community wasn’t even a community - it was _tribes_ , at best. And Gods know I didn’t help at all! I just tried to appease the factory-owners so they didn’t _move_. And then the unions - oh, I’m sure you’ll hear about the unions.” He closes his eyes, tight, and Calliope tastes a little more salt in this salt-thick air, more personalized to the chemicals of Doctor Botki’s bloodstream. 

It’s a little overwhelming, still, but it’s a useful tool, the taste of pheremones and neurotransmitters. Being around so many other beings really is something.

“... So why are you rebuilding here?”

Doctor Botki just shrugs as he turns to face her. She stops, shortly before running right into him. 

“You’re welcome to come in,” he says. “But - you know. I’m sure it’s nothing compared to the palaces of the Carapace Kingdom.”

Calliope clicks her teeth together, in the way that’s savaged so many of her pens before. It’s what she gets for having such vicious teeth. 

“I used to live,” she says, a little quiet, “in a single room. It was more than enough for me. Anything now is a gift.” She doesn’t love thinking about it, but it’s the truth. And she thinks that Doctor Botki will make a connection to that - one that’ll make this playwright thing so much easier.

She’s right (as she often is, clever Calliope!) and is proved so by the look in Doctor Botki’s glassy eyes.

“Spanner Park, before the wave, was a bit of a terror. But it was familiar. It was home.” Doctor Botki opens the gate, inviting Calliope in with a jerk of his head so fierce it makes his sash sway. “It was a drab place with people who didn’t like me very much. Hated me, even. But it was my home, and I want it back.” 

Calliope just stares at him.

He rubs the back of his neck, and says, “It’s better now. The wave brought us together. And - I know it’s silly, to long for something I never enjoyed. I don’t even _long_ for it, it’s just -” He blows out a tired breath. “It was mine. I knew it. I didn’t love it, but I knew it. So I miss it, a little.” He blinks up at her. “Do you - know what I mean?”

Calliope thinks of grey text.

“I’m afraid not,” she says, bowing her head, before she has a chance to dwell on the answer. She’s got a better, more beautiful life, and she doesn’t miss a thing. “But I can try to communicate it anyway.”

Doctor Botki leads her inside with a tired smile.

“Let’s hope!” he chirps, forced cheeriness, and Calliope forces a laugh to make him more comfortable.


	2. Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane waits. John watches. Sollux has done both for a long, long time.

At least this is familiar, Jane thinks.

Sitting around, the taste of worry on the back of her tongue, waiting for someone to show up. She’s very good at waiting, these days. She’s not patient by any stretch, but she’s got a lot of experience sitting down and doing screw-all. (Even if it does make her feel like a screwball, hoo hoo hoo.)

Jake’s not here, though, which bothers her. She wishes he was - she feels like he would be able to get more out of her experience than she will, and definitely more than everyone else.

Who knows what valuable information will have to be delayed because Calliope, John, and Jake are busy? Who knows anything at this point?

Well, they all know little things, at least, so that’s a start.

“Is that Vriska?” Jane asks Kanaya, leaning over to whisper it. Roxy is half-asleep against her side, so she doesn’t shift too much. Dirk’s let go of her hand, poor thing, and hasn’t stopped scanning the horizon since. The choice of a mountaintop was purposeful - nothing can sneak up on them without at least one of the group noticing it. It’s like they’re a gaggle of meerkats.

Jane wonders what the name for a group of meerkats is. She rather hopes it’s “gaggle”.

“It appears to be,” Kanaya says, as the blue-gray streak in yellow dress shoots across the sky, carrying with it a caterwauling mess.

“Oh hey, there’s my husbando,” says Dave, as Karkat reaches earshot. “Hubba hubba, am I right fellas.”

“Vriska, I will tear our your organs and use them as an EXTREMELY fashionable scarf, do you hear me? Fuck you! Fuck you and your fucking shitty wings! They look like you got them at a human Halloween bargain bin store in July! JULY! That’s what Christmas is!”

“Oh my god shut uuuuuuuup,” groans Vriska as she drops down. Jane tunes them out to lean over towards Dave, who has a bit of a dopey look on his face. It’s cute how he relaxes whenever Karkat comes back from somewhere, like a dog who pretends he wasn’t waiting for you at the door. 

“Did you teach him Christmas was in July again?” Jane asks, as politely as she can.

“Oh, hell yeah,” says Dave. “I have to re-convince him every time someone mentions Christmas in December. Like, it’s happened every single year. Romcoms are a constant minefield. I think he really believes me.”

Jane knows for a fact Karkat is just humoring Dave at this point, but she doesn’t say so. Dave needs a win.

She lets everyone get acquainted, waiting for Sollux and Terezi to make the trek up the mountain. They manage to sneak in without anyone but she and Jane noticing them, and they both wave. Neither Sollux nor Terezi wave back. Jane lets it pass out of the goodness of her heart.

“Are we all ready?” she asks, quiet, polite. There’s enough firmness in her tone to get everyone’s attention - save Vriska, who continues boasting. Jane stares her down until she shuts her mouth.

Ugh, what does Jake see in her? Jane is just rubbed the wrong way. By _everything_ about her.

“Let’s get started,” Jane says, smoothing her hands over her skirt. She’s still in her Godtier outfit. She’s had time to change, but honestly, these are quite comfortable, and she feels Godly in them. She figures she’s going to need to feel godly for this conversation. “We’re all aware of the events of the last few… I suppose it really started a few weeks ago. The last few days have been the most hectic, I’d say.”

“Putting it fucking mildly,” grumbles Karkat, who gives a loose thread on the picnic blanket a nice, hard yank. It nearly upends Roxy’s drink. Jane catches it without comment.

Jane nods to him. “Indeed.” She blows out a big sigh. “So, who wants to go first?”

Dave raises his hand. “I know the most shit.”

“Dave goes first, then,” Jane says, “and the rest of us can add in as he goes.”

_

“I’m the big buck of this lick,” Jake roars. “If you want a go at me, come whet your horns, you ninnies!”

John sits on a tree branch, taking a sip of one of Jake’s ninety-eight Capri Suns. He watches Jade’s grandpa pin wheel his fists in wild, tight circles, challenging the deer cat that is pacing the clearing. 

It’s a large animal, but clearly, not large enough for Jake to be intimidated. Its horns - no, wait, antlers, it’s a deer - have scratched over the bark of the trees encircling this clearing, testaments to how much this animal should _not_ be allowed near them.

“You could just shoot it, you know,” says John from where he’s perched in the branches. He was just fine on the ground, but then worms started punching up through the dirt and wiggling on him, and honestly, he’s not about that.

“Nonsense!” Jake crows. “This isn’t about the fight, it’s about the standoff!”

Don’t get him wrong - John’s happy that he found his confidence, or, uh, whatever happened there, but he doesn’t really get a lot of Jake’s stuff. He’s ready to supplement it with anything Jake needs, though. This is what friends do.

Most friends don’t challenge deercat monsters to fist fights, though.

“Okay, then,” he says, and uses the handle of his hammer like a fire poker to scare off the birds that were giving him death glares. All the animals here really do hate them. 

Well - hate _him._

Strange thing is, after the first incursion, nothing has actually _attacked_ Jake. John’s been flocked by evil hummingbirds, chased by lusii, and clawed up by some kind of mole-dog, but Jake’s getting out of this without a scratch. (He’s not bitter. No, that would be weird. He’s not bitter.)

This deer cat is the first thing to really come up to Jake, and it’s just circling him, claws flexing into the earth beneath it. The worms all go back into the ground before it steps, John notices. (Just more proof that all these monster animals have made a coalition specifically to torture him.) It flicks its crazy long tail, and John notices a snake coming up to bite him, and uses the breeze to blow it off the tree.

The deercat lunges, and Jake draws his guns to fire. John isn’t concerned. Jake can handle himself, and past that, he knows he wants to.

The bang startles the birds John’s fending off, and the forest goes quiet, for a moment.

The deercat takes a bullet to the shoulder. It gives a warbling roar and turns, ungainly in its flight, to limp-run into the bushes. With a whoop of joy, Jake follows it, crashing through the underbrush with all the subtlety of a charging elephant.

John slips off the branch and flies after them, staying just high enough in the air that he’s below the largest portion of the thick branches. This is definitely a jungle - why would this be called the Lost Forest when it’s a fucking jungle? Clearly, someone messed up the etymology on that - and it has enough irritating vines to ruin his day if he doesn’t fly carefully enough.

“Come on, chap,” Jake calls back, his voice already being stolen by the overbearing pressure of the ancient trees and leaf litter. “Get a move on, get those gams pumpin’!”

“Aren’t we supposed to be finding someone?” John calls, bracing his feet on the side of a tree. Where did they go? Shit, he’s lost track of Jake. it’s this damn silence - it’s like a wet blanket’s been laid over everything. Must be the humidity, and that and the sheer amount of organic material makes a hell of a sound absorber.

John shrieks as a monkey leaps onto his back.

He spins in the air, ears filled with the screeching of one of the Lost Forest’s abid beasts, and tries to throw it off. It bites him, because of course it does, but John slams into a tree and full speed and breaks enough of its bones to get it to lose its grip. It’s a horrible noise, but that’s what blunt trauma does to something alive. It’s all John can do to not remember the sounds his hammer made sometimes.

He doesn’t take his hammer out much anymore.

As he spins, full of adrenaline, the wind whips around him in a way he did not command, and John has the truly disorienting realization that the Breeze is disobeying him.

He blinks, shoots up above the trees, and looks out over the Lost Forest’s massive sprawl. It spreads to the horizon, and likely farther. Up here, the Breeze comes back to him, like a cat who doesn’t cop to accepting cream from the noisy neighbor. It cozies back under his psyche, and John takes a staggering breath.

It takes him longer than he’d like to admit to realize he’d lost Jake’s trail.  
_

“So Jade managed to run through the _whole_ of Forest Aradaxia without coming across the guy who’s - _not_ a Thief of Time, despite acting the same way, because fuck me, I guess -”

“Correcting you wasn’t an insult, it was a statement, babycakes,” Roxy says.

Sollux picks at his claws,trying to rid himself of a pesky hangclaw that’s been bothering him recently. Humans get lateral hangnails, but a troll gets ones straight up-and-down the claw, and they’re much more serious. At least, in his opinion. 

He doesn’t have opinions on most things, or at least, he doesn’t voice them. He could start (and finish) his fair share of fights, but honestly, what’s even the point? He already knows how this is going to go.

“Ohhhhhhhh my god,” Vriska groans, and Sollux wishes that she would get stuck like that. What would that be, a cobalt-screen? Ehehe. “Just get to the point already!”

They’vre been going on like this for awhile. Sollux, to his credit, hasn’t started any of the fights, but he also hasn’t offered any help to finish them. He’s just happy they all got ou alive (well, mostly) from the encounter with the Smiling God.

He stayed mostly blind, because he wasn’t quite reborn by SGRUB. Some trolls were made whole again, but Sollux was always an aberration. He was two player’s worth of kick-ass, and SGRUB knew it. Now he was just about one, and the code didn’t have a problem with it, so blind it is.

He’s just happy he only remembers _some_ of the spriting debacle. It haunts his daymares.

“Okay,” shouts Karkat, jsut loud enough to calm the ruckus. “Alright! So far we have three, maybe four confirmed sightings. We have the Smiling God - terrible fucking name, by the way - we have Endeki, we have the - what’s it called?”

“The Beast,” Dave and Sollux say at the same time. Sollux winks at Dave, and he’s pretty sure Dave winks back.

“The Beast, right. Fuck, do we have a grubsniffing Beauty too? Uhh, and we have the Appentice, who is also known as -”

“Black Beauty.”

“I knew that one, Roxy, but sure, interrupt me again. I surely won’t have an aneurysm of pain and suffering.” Karkat taps the majjyyked-up whiteboard. “Are we missing anything?”

Sollux doesn’t say anything. He just focuses on his hangclaw, and pretends Terezi’s sightless gaze isn’t melting through his posture pole, with the imprint of her fanged smile close behind. He has his reasons. She better not spill.

“Two,” Dave says, leaning back. “Well, two that have more than a moment’s notice. The Lost Forest, whee John and Jake are, and the Chessmaster.”

“The what,” says Karkat.

Sollux snickers.

“The Chessmaster. He’s - I don’t think he’s dangerous, anyway, he just kind of plays chess -”

“He does fucking what?”

“He plays chess,” Sollux says, backing Dave up. “Any board game, really. Just leave it out in the forest and he’ll move a piece. The most danger anyone would be in would be getting a game flipped and the pieces disappeared because you moved when it wasn’t your turn.”

“How the fuck do you know that?” Karkat asks, grilling Sollux like he’s a delicious slice of lobster tail.

Sollux shrugs. He’s already explained this - he doesn’t feel like he really has to tell Karkat again, but he will, because it’ll just annoy him more, and what could be fucking funnier than that? “I live here, stupid,” he tells him. “Longer than you, even.”

Karkat just about tears his hair out. Sollux tunes it all out again as they clumsily put the pieces together in the world’s most inefficient jigsaw puzzle.

He doesn’t need to listen, anyway. He already knows it all.


End file.
